He was sitting in a corner, shivering in fear atop a cushion soaked in wee-wee. He could barely look up at me when I sat down next to him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an animal so afraid in all my life.

He’d been in the shelter system for at least a couple months, and no one seemed to know where he’d been before that or what his life had been like.

But as I sat next to him and started to gently pet him, he turned his eyes up to meet mine, and they were full of longing. Begging. It’s what dogs do when they’re sitting next to your chair at the dinner table, but his look was more than just asking for a tasty treat. He looked desperate and so, so sad.

I wasn’t in the market for a dog his size or one with his issues. The shelter volunteer told me he wasn’t even housebroken. But when someone — even a dog — looks at you with such sadness and an unspoken plea, you just can’t tell ‘em no.

So Lieutenant Barclay the Dowg lives at our house now. And in the past couple months, he’s done amazing things. The first few days, he just slept and slept. Barely even wanted to eat. But we worked with him and comforted him, and slowly, he started coming out of his shell.

Get this, man: Last week, he rode the bus with me to work. Downtown. No problemo. He’s still shy, but he’s not the pathetic little creature I first met. I’m just so glad we were able to give him a happy life.

Funny, though: I was thinking of buying a purebred Maltese right before I met him. I’m so very glad I didn’t. He needed me in a way that a purebred puppy never could, and I’m blessed that I got to meet his needs, even though he’s just a dowg.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/07/16/meet-the-dowg/feed/1904711_10201027178992631_199337957_oJolieBarclay the DowgOpen letter to a good friend on work, play, and being an adulthttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/you-bettah-werk/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/you-bettah-werk/#commentsTue, 21 May 2013 22:46:49 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=3121]]>Hey there.

So, I see that you’re trying to take your career seriously.

Gosh, that sounded condescending. What I mean is, you’ve been slaving away as a professional for years, and you’re trying to jumpstart yourself to another level in one concentrated effort.

I have to say, I really admire your tenacity and energy. You are smart, and you really do know a lot about what you’re doing. You put in incredible hours, and I absolutely think you deserve an opportunity to level up.

But if you want the rest of the world to take you seriously — i.e., invest in your startup/apply for your incubator/fund your investment firm — you’ve got to stop with the juvenile antics.

You can’t go out and get drunk every night. You can’t constantly post about getting drunk and partying. You can’t constantly post pictures of yourself half-naked or inebriated or pictures of yourself with scantily clad hotties you don’t even know. Every time you land in a new city, you can’t pepper Facebook and Twitter with “Where’s the party at?” and “Who’s down to get wasted?”

I know you embrace the whole work hard/play hard ethos, but get serious. Do you think Steve Jobs shared stuff like that? More to the point, do you think he partied like that? Do you think Bill Gates or Ginny Rometty or Mark Zuckerberg did?

A handful of people in Silicon Valley actually do live that way, but they’re few and far between, and they’re as powerful as they are secretly despised. A certain Facebook investor, now too important to be blocked by any mortal but plagued by a grotesque sex-and-drugs habit. An investor legendary for his drinking problem as well as his stellar financials. You’re not rich or powerful enough to be in that category, and the posts about partying don’t make you look cool. They make you look lazy and possibly addicted.

And when you’re not broadcasting updates about your time-wasting, brain cell-killing, relationship-squandering social life, you’re trying to convince us all that you’re a power player who is inspired, destined for greatness, and totally crushing it.

Telling everyone how you’re hustling and crushing it all the time does not mean you’re actually succeeding.

RELATED: “You’re Not an Entrepreneur”

Let’s talk for a moment about hustling. Our generation has adopted this word and plastered it onto class pennant without really considering what it means. Sometimes, I think some of us are all hustle, no work.

The real definition of a hustle is a con. A scam. Getting out of a situation a lot more than you put into it. Sometimes, I think that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re smart, but I question your perseverance. Do you have the courage to weather the boredom of a real job, one that last for years and is sometimes the least fun thing in the world? One that pays your bills and lets you save, slowly, for a retirement that’s a couple decades down the road? Or are you so sold on the get-rich-quick schemes of the startup world that hustling is the only kind of work you know?

My last beef: Your language. Call me “grandma,” but the only one who gets to say the F word in professional contexts with any credibility is Dave McClure, and even he’s outgrowing that habit. Stop swearing. You’re alienating some of your most valuable allies every time you do. You’re disappointing your colleagues, and you’re turning off potential partners.

I like you, I really do. And on most levels, I still consider you a friend. But I wouldn’t do business with you, and I wouldn’t recommend you.

I used to be a partier and a hustler, too, and I wouldn’t have recommended myself back then, either. One of the things I love most about my life now is that I can ask people to take me seriously with a shred of credibility. I’ve had my job for a couple years. I go to work every day and do my job, even when it’s boring and slow and I don’t feel like it. I rarely post overly personal stuff on the Internet, but when I do, I try to uplift others. I’ve realized it takes more than a burst of energy to succeed, and it takes more than Twitter followers to be respected.

In the end, it all comes down to self-awareness. I don’t think you realize how your actions and words (and pictures) reflect on your work; I wouldn’t be writing this incredibly difficult letter otherwise.

The fact of the matter is, this isn’t really an open letter to one friend. It’s an open letter to dozens of people in the startup scene, young and not-so-young, all incredibly bright and talented and all wasting their time on parties, “hustling,” and social media.

Comments are closed for this post. You are encouraged to disagree, debate, or expand the conversation on your own blog; you will be linked to via trackbacks and pingbacks.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/you-bettah-werk/feed/0hustlingJolieMy new book about blogging is out!https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/05/20/my-new-book-about-blogging-is-out/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/05/20/my-new-book-about-blogging-is-out/#commentsMon, 20 May 2013 17:00:38 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=3105]]>I’ve been waiting for ages to tell y’all about this, but my new book has finally arrived!

It’s called Blogging for Photographers, and it’s a must-read for anyone who does a lot of visually oriented blogging, from professional photographers to food bloggers, fashion bloggers, DIY furniture-making bloggers, you name it.

The ebook version is £6.99 worth of DRM-free instant gratification via PDF. Hooray!

If you’re more into the idea of a hard copy — you know, for your gift-giving needs and your smarty-pants-bookshelf needs — you can buy a hard copy online, too!

BONUS: For my special friends on the Internet, the lovely people at Ilex Press have given me the promo code ‘bloggersrule’. If you use that, you can get both Blogging for Photographers and Blogging for Creatives for £9.99 each. More hooray!

Please do share the news around — especially that ebook link. I hope all y’all are having a wonderful day!

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/05/20/my-new-book-about-blogging-is-out/feed/2bookJolieThree years sober, I’m still dealing with guilthttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/04/19/three-years-sober-im-still-dealing-with-residual-guilt/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/04/19/three-years-sober-im-still-dealing-with-residual-guilt/#commentsFri, 19 Apr 2013 20:05:42 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=3095]]>2013 was the first time I finally felt like my recovery didn’t completely define me.

I’m so much more than someone who used to drink and use drugs to dangerous excess. But for the first two and a half years or so of my recovery, it felt like that’s all I was. I had to put so much energy and focus on staying clean and sober; sometimes, it took every ounce of willpower I had. And in the times when I was just hangin’ out and trying to be normal, I felt like everyone else could tell I was different or damaged somehow.

What I’ve learned this year is that I’m sort of resurrected. Old Jolie the Addict has gone away, making way for New Jolie the More or Less Normal Person.

It didn’t happen all at once. The morning I woke up and decided I would be sober forever, I was still wearing the previous night’s party clothes and had the same neuroses and attitudes. Changing those attitudes was a huge labor. Killing off the old, destructive thinking patterns and actions. Allowing new ones to grow in their place.

In my third year of sobriety, I realized that the good, healthy parts of me had finally grown bigger and stronger than the old, sad, weak parts.

The hardest part has been the guilt. Sometimes, it comes in the form of overwhelming regret for specific people I’ve hurt or chances I’ve wasted. Other times, it’s a general but permeating feeling of doom about entire years of my life — a sort of nausea of the soul.

All through Lent, I prayed and prayed, asking God to show me a way I could repent for the things I’d done and the person I’d been. Finally, on Good Friday, I had a breakthrough. I realized that those things and that part of my life were dead. I was still carrying the grief from them, but the only way I could truly repent would be to go on and live out my best life, my best intentions, my most sincere desires to help others.

Living in the past would eventually drag me back into the past. Living in guilt made it harder to focus on living unselfishly in the present.

I’m still someone who used to use alcohol and drugs to escape my reality and, as a consequence, royally screwed up my life and the lives of those around me.

But I’m also someone who today cares deeply about the homeless in my city, who loves inviting friends and strangers into my home, who tries very hard to be a good partner to a very good man, who works hard and loves her job, and who tries every day to be a better person.

Every now and then, I know the guilt will creep back into my mind, but I’ve found that living under the shadow of guilt only makes me a worse person — self-focused, angry, anti-social. The best cure for guilt and the negativity it creates is simply living for others.

Comments are closed for this post. You are encouraged to disagree, debate, or expand the conversation on your own blog; you will be linked to via trackbacks and pingbacks.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2013/04/19/three-years-sober-im-still-dealing-with-residual-guilt/feed/2sobrievrsaryJolieTwo years of sobriety: What I know now that I wish I had known thenhttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/04/18/two-years-of-sobriety-what-i-know-now-that-i-wish-i-had-known-then/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/04/18/two-years-of-sobriety-what-i-know-now-that-i-wish-i-had-known-then/#commentsWed, 18 Apr 2012 22:06:50 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=3078]]>Today, I’m celebrating my second sobrie-versary, and it just keeps getting better.

Year one was rough, to say the least. Work difficulties, relationship difficulties, big life changes all occurred just as I was struggling to maintain a newly serene and stable life.

Now, as I round the corner on year two, I’d like to share a few thoughts with ya that I wish I’d had when I started out.

1. Alcoholism may or may not be a disease, but sobriety is a choice.

Minute by minute, I’ve had to make the choice of whether or not to drink or use. Sometimes, I would be so upset or insecure that I could only make that choice for the next five minutes. As in, “Today sucks, life sucks, but I’m going to hold off on drinking/using for the next five minutes.”

Very slowly, that became an easier decision to make, and I didn’t have to make it as consciously as often. But even now — and I imagine for a long time to come — there will still be that choice in that moment when I have to decide.

And I will always, always decide to preserve my sobriety.

2. Not everyone will understand or support your choice.

The people who know me best are glad and relieved I made my choice to remain sober. Recently, over dinner with an ex-girlfriend, I learned that she had wondered when she’d be getting that middle-of-the-night call and learn that I had finally kicked the bucket under tragic circumstances. She, along with my family and my best and closest friends, are happy that I no longer give them such cause for concern.

However, not everyone has been so respectful. There are the “come on, just one drink” people, and the “yeah, but you’re not an alcoholic now, right?” people, the people who thought I could get the hang of moderation if I just tried a little harder. Those people have made my journey just a bit more difficult, because yes, I wish I was capable of enjoying myself in moderation, too.

With those who don’t understand or respect my choice, I have to be patient, and I also have to remember that not everyone has the hands-on experience with alcoholism that lends the necessary gravitas to the conversation.

3. Recovery is a gift that keeps giving.

Living in cycles of self-abuse and addiction was a harrowing experience. On the other side of that, though, I see it as a gift. A hard-won, unique gift.

When others who are still struggling with addiction (and all the drama that comes along with it) approach me with questions, I can give them real and honest answers. As much as the normal person might want to help or offer hope, there’s only so much you can say or do when you don’t have the ugly experience that alcoholism or addiction confers.

It’s not a distinction, and it’s not an honor, but I do feel blessed that I can reach out to, respond to, and actually help people in need.

That’s really the only reason I write posts like these: Not because I’m soooo proud of myself or because I want to “show off” my damage. I want you, dear reader, to know that your drinking or drug problem doesn’t have to hold you back forever. You can start making those little choices, and you can break your own cycles. And when you do, I swear to God, your life will change in the most beautiful, gratifying, and mind-blowing ways. I am living proof of that; these aren’t just hollow words. And for me, that proof is the best thing about recovery.

4. Your life will change forever and for better.

Two years ago, I was overweight, barely hanging onto my job, running very low on genuine friends, and in a dead-end relationship.

And it wasn’t just my circumstances: It was me. I was angry, bitter, depressed, and pretty near hopeless. My self-esteem had dwindled dangerously low, and my self-preservation skills were nonexistent.

Today, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’m in great physical shape, I have a small group of trustworthy true friends, I freaking love my job (and they mostly tell me I’m doing great at it), I’m in the best relationship of my life, and overall, I am amazed at how much my quality of life has improved.

No kidding: I look around just about every day and think, “Really? All this is mine? I get to live this life?.” I’m lucky, no doubt, but I also know I wouldn’t have this if I had continued to drink and use.

Questions? Go ahead; ask me anything.

If you are struggling, know someone who is, or have any questions about addiction, I’m happy to chat with you. I’m not a counselor, and I don’t have any professional experience in coaching people out of addiction, but I can give you some honesty and some encouragement if you need it.

Yes, nestled between the tissue-weight ironic shirts and the mustache-mobile cat toys, you will find my excellent tome. How exciting is that? A real store that cool kids go to carries my book. My little mind is blown.

It’s also on the Urban website — yes, just two books down from Betty White’s latest:

So yeah! Please buy my book, and thank you if you already did. And a very, very special thanks to all the pro and amateur photographers who let me use their work in the book’s Inspiration Gallery! Y’all made it amazing.

You can buy it at Amazon (linked above), at Barnes & Noble, at Target, and a handful of other places, too. I’ll update you with cool news on other places carrying my book soon.

It’s also an inspirational gallery of Android-powered work from international photographers — amateurs and pros. And it’s got an extremely thorough guide to the best Android Market photography and photo-editing apps, and guides on how to use them.

I spent a ton of time on this book, and I’m very pleased with the results.

If you buy it, I will love you. And I think you’ll love it, too.

From the publisher, Ilex Press:

Android-driven smartphones have revolutionised the world of mobile phones, bringing iPhone-like touchscreens to a mass market — and every phone includes a camera, always at hand.

This is a book for every Android smartphone owner who has an interest in creating stylish, fashionable, exciting and unique photos, wherever they are. This book selects the best Android apps out there and teaches how to use them through clear illustrations, inspirational images and a friendly instructional text. This book takes the fun-and-free spirit of Lomography, and applies it to the camera that’s already in your pocket. The best apps are listed, a wealth of inspirational case studies are included, and youll be introduced to the most exciting mobile photography in the world. With Android phones outselling iPhones in the US, and set to do so worldwide in 2011, this book’s time has come. Android users often ask where they can get the best photo apps; this book will guide them straight there. Readers will learn how to join a global community and share insights, ideas and images.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/02/17/android-photography-2/feed/17android photography bookJolieandroid photography book 2In which I appear on public televisionhttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/02/06/in-which-i-appear-on-public-television/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/02/06/in-which-i-appear-on-public-television/#commentsMon, 06 Feb 2012 22:02:34 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=3035]]>I didn’t watch the segment, myself; I have a sort of cringey natural reaction to seeing myself on video.

The host, Belva Davis, is quite possibly the sweetest woman on television.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/02/06/in-which-i-appear-on-public-television/feed/1kqedJolieMy Best Work, 2011 Editionhttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/best-work-2011/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/best-work-2011/#commentsFri, 06 Jan 2012 22:18:36 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=3015]]>Toward the close of December, I have for the past couple years been rounding up the very best work I did throughout the year and summarizing it for myself and my friends — but mostly for myself, so I don’t forget that in spite of many days filled with workaday news briefs, I occasionally do turn out some good journalism.

(Also, I’m looking at year-over-year trends, and I see great improvements between the 2010 list and now. Perspective is a good thing.)

The only good post I wrote at Mashable (and, consequently, in the first 6 months of 2011) was this horrifically long and vastly informative piece on why Node was becoming so trendy. It served as my Hacker News redemption piece for the year. Since then, Node.js journalism has become something of a specialty of mine.

As soon as I jumped ship for VentureBeat, I cranked out this epic love letter to Los Angeles and its startup culture. I spent 5 years in LA before moving to San Francisco, and I’ll always be an alum of that tech culture.

In a long sit-down with Twitter developer relations mastermind Ryan Sarver, I attempted to bury a hatchet that had been raised two years prior. The company’s relationship with third-party developers was one that I’d watched crack firsthand at Chirp, Twitter’s first and (to date) only developer conference in 2009. As I covered the many grievances third-party devs bore, I also noted that Twitter’s attitude toward those devs and its actions toward its API users was beginning to change.

I also got a chance to sit down for a while with a prominent Googler, Bradley Horowitz. Early in the Google+ game, Horowitz gave me a very clear picture of Google+’s real design. It’s not a social network; it is a unifying login and profiling system for all Google web products, which is somehow a lot more important than a mere social network.

Another great couple interviews were conducted on Facebook’s campus. I got to have a long chat with David Recordon, someone I’d been following from afar for a couple years. He told me everything I needed to know about Facebook’s open-source software programs. But I was surprised that the more powerful interview was one about Facebook’s open-source hardware initiative, one that would have me scurrying around a data center in Prineville a few months later to check out revolutionary new designs.

But surprisingly enough, the Android/Motorola acquisition and related patent lawsuits ended up comprising the bulk of my Android reportage this past year. After I wrote a somewhat biting headline about the acquisition, I got a good, long talking-to on background by a Googler. That led to a more thoughtful and nuanced piece on the acquisition, specifically as it related to the issue of patent law and Android’s ability to survive all these lawsuits from Apple and Microsoft.

In a word, if I’ve been a good reporter in 2011, it was because of people. All the best stories are about people, not really about technology at all. My ability to have access to people who have great visions and who make important decisions is the number-one reason I’m a good journalist.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/best-work-2011/feed/0workJolieMy Secrets to Productivityhttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/11/03/my-secrets-to-productivity/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/11/03/my-secrets-to-productivity/#commentsThu, 03 Nov 2011 15:31:48 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=2996]]>I’ve been kicking the Internet’s butt lately — Marshall Kirkpatrick’s words, not my own. And a lot of that butt-kicking has to do with one simple change I’ve made in my life.

Lately, I’ve been getting up at 6:30 in the morning. It’s still dark out, and I hate it with all my soul. But once I got into the habit of it, I realized I was more productive than ever before and I was running circles around many of my late-rising peers.

I don’t consider myself to be anything special as a writer. I believe that what makes a writer exceptional is the extra effort he or she puts into the work. When it comes to newsgathering and reporting, some of that extra effort, for me, at least, involves getting an early start.

Here are some of my “secrets” to maintaining a high level of productivity. All my best days run this course.

1) Wake up half an hour before anyone else.

Good lord, how I loathe waking up in the morning. If not for my constant fear that someone, somewhere is getting the jump on me, I’d never do it.

But the slightest margin of lead time has changed the way I work in a competitive environment.

The most crucial parts of most business days happen in the morning. If you work in a business that is even slightly normal, or if you’re a West Coast resident working for or with an East Coast branch, it behooves you to get up early.

The best thing about getting up at 6:30 is that I get to wipe all my email off the slate before anyone is awake to reply. Clearing out my inbox takes less than half the time it would ordinarily simply because I get to attend to every new email before the back-and-forth threads start.

Because I so hate getting up in the morning, I have to trick myself into doing it. My alarm clock blurts to life with some really beautiful jazz music, I turn on the soft, white string lights that decorate the top of my four-poster, and — I kid you not, hand to God — I groggily pop the top on one of the 5-Hour Energy shots next to my pillow.

Yeah, I sleep with a 6-pack of 5-Hour Energy next to my pillow.

I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve written four blog posts, answered all my email, and it ain’t even 8 o’clock in the morning yet.

So, do whatever motivates you to not hate the morning. Rig up the beginning of your day with music, lights, and your beverage of choice so that when you wake up, your brain is immediately jolted into alertness or some semblance thereof.

As a side note, because my brain wakes up before my body does, I’ve optimized by sleeping next to my laptop (the ol’ four-poster is getting a bit crowded at this point) and hauling it open before I’m actually ready to get out of bed. By the time the battery is running down, my body has usually caught up with my brain and I can get myself into the office knowing I’ve made the best use of my time.

3) Don’t engage in conversation during the first two hours of your workday.

Call me an antisocial hermit, but talking to people — via email, IM, phone, social networks, or in person — derails me. One of the other benefits of waking up early is that no one else is around to make requests or assign tasks that might take me off-course.

In other words, I can completely focus a few quiet hours on banging out a difficult task that requires my complete attention, and I am pretty much guaranteed that time will be distraction-free unless I introduce distractions of my own accord.

I recommend banning all kinds of real-time conversation, including social chatter on Twitter and Facebook, from the beginning of your day.

4) Stop your “busy” work at noon, transition to “slogging” work.

Because most of the important business of the day happens during the first half of the day, and because I get my distraction-free time in the early morning, I am generally done with most of the high-intensity work I have to do by noon.

At that point, I switch gears to something that might not be time-sensitive but that requires slower, more careful work.

For example, I’ll do a bit of blogging and email in the very early morning, conduct some interviews around 10 or so, then around noon, I switch to actual writing — the kind that leads to big, long “think” pieces or in-depth coverage. These pieces run into the thousands of words and take days or even weeks to write and edit, and my slower-paced afternoons are perfectly suited to this kind of work.

I’m sure you have the equivalent somewhere in your workday. My recommendation is to load the top of your day with the urgent, quick tasks or those that require a laser focus, then put your longer or more leisurely work toward the end of the day.

5) When you’re done, be done.

When you sense your productivity window closing, when you’ve put in your time, when you’ve finished your tasks, put it down, get up, and walk away.

Anytime I try to squeeze in an important task when my brain is wandering and my mental resources are exhausted, I end up wasting my time. It’s important to realize when you are being productive and when you are not.

When your work is done for the day, leave your desk, your office, and your gadgets behind you. Don’t let those tasks linger on your brain. Part of being productive is being refreshed, and you can’t refresh yourself if you never pause in your efforts and do something completely unrelated to work.

In your evenings and weekends, nourish your soul. During that time, not working is your job.

6) Early to bed.

Part of getting up early is going to bed early.

I am fortunate in that a) I have fewer friendships than most, b) I don’t drink, and c) I’m past my 20s. For me, getting into bed at 10 or 10:30 or 11 at night is a pleasure and a relief.

If “early to bed” is not your wont, I highly recommend melatonin and a large measure of self-discipline.

All of life is a trade-off. If you want to be successful and productive in your career, you do have to make some personal and social sacrifices. I’m not saying you have to live a lonely and joyless life to be good at your job, but you can’t sustainably be a party animal or an all-night gamer and a fabulous worker at the same time. You must choose where your fulcrum lies and achieve your own sense of balance accordingly.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/11/03/my-secrets-to-productivity/feed/216942355_10152994724995103_1143152914_nJolieAnd Then, There Was VentureBeathttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/07/21/venturebeat/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/07/21/venturebeat/#commentsThu, 21 Jul 2011 15:00:02 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=2947]]>Hours ago, I let y’all know I had put in my last day at Mashable.

Not being one to waste time, I am now embarking on my first day of work at VentureBeat.

It’s a smaller publication, but as partially noted in my post on leaving the Mash, I have for some time wanted to work somewhere with a niche-y focus on technology and business — particularly early-stage startups. And as Mashable pursues a more mainstream (and for them, a worthwhile and highly profitable) path, I am content to focus on what I do best: Talking to developers, designers, investors, analysts, and others about what makes the Silicon Valley microverse tick, and retelling that story to a wide-ranging audience of early adopters, tech generalists, and businessfolk around the world.

I’m thrilled to be working with some of the finest reporters in San Francisco, and I am looking forward to the new challenges and new victories of this new job.

I hope you’ll continue to follow my writings, which will center around tech news and startup reviews. I’ll need your support to continue doing what I do best, and I promise to keep it interesting for you! Stay tuned for a string of think pieces, iconoclastic interviews, unique analyses, and generally the kind of journalism I write when I’m at the top of my game.

And to my longtime friends who’ve been reading my stuff and supporting me since my days at ReadWriteWeb (and even before!), you have my hearty thanks and sincere love. Without your attention and feedback, I’d be nowhere.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/07/21/venturebeat/feed/54venturebeatJolieWhy I Left Mashablehttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/07/20/quitting-mashable/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/07/20/quitting-mashable/#commentsThu, 21 Jul 2011 03:00:00 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=2927]]>A year and four months ago, I was delighted to accept an offer of work from my good friends at Mashable. Today, I announce with some sadness that I have put in my last day at that publication.

In the time I worked there, Mashable experienced growth that was beyond anything I’d ever seen at any other company. Growth in staff, growth in influence, growth in pageviews — the organization is shaping up to be a contender in media, not just in niche tech blogging.

During the course of this growth, I never ceased to acknowledge what a unique opportunity the job was. We had access to tech luminaries as well as genuine celebrities in the world of mainstream entertainment, and it felt good to be part of an organization with that kind of recognition. (Case in point: Sir Mix-A-Lot follows me on Twitter now, and it’s not just because he likes my big butt. You can’t tell me you’re not a wee bit jealous.)

In addition to being part of the world’s largest independent blog (and all the access, invitations, and freebies that entailed), I was also allowed and encouraged to do some great work during my tenure there. I am very, very proud of some of the pieces I wrote at Mashable (I’ll include a few of them below), and I also had some excellent mentorship, particularly over the past few months from Chris Taylor, the San Francisco bureau chief.

However, I was beginning to kick against the pricks, so to speak, about some of the directions Mashable was taking. The posts that have made Mashable the powerhouse it is have been by turns in-depth/insightful and popular/timely. Perhaps because I’m a lifelong cultural contrarian (and certainly because I loved the company enough to want to make substantive positive contributions to its overall tone and character) I was becoming more and more cynical about latter category, regardless of the fact that a large portion of Mashable’s audience very much wanted to read those posts — the celebrity news, the infographics, the current events coverage, et cetera.

But it’s not my place to decide what Mashable is or what it should be. It’s not my place to criticize or cultivate the publication’s audience. And in my role there, it was not up to me to decide what was newsworthy and what was not. Mashable in its current state is a fine and fascinating publication, and it’s staffed by some of the best (and fastest) reporters I’ve worked with. The managing editors and executives have a powerful vision for what the organization is going to become, and if I wasn’t going to wholeheartedly support that vision, I needed to get myself out of the way and let Mashable be what it would.

So, precluding any (more) stunning displays of arrogance or mutiny and because I truly do love the company and the people that constitute it, I got myself out of the way.

I will miss my friends there, our inside jokes, and the experience of working as a finely tuned machine in high gear during times of breaking news. And as a Mash alum, I will always wish all my colleagues there the huge success they have without question worked so hard to earn. As we all follow the rise of Mashable’s star, I do so with particular respect and admiration, having been on the inside and seen firsthand what those extraordinarily bright and self-aware bloggers can accomplish.

If you’re the praying type, I urge you to join me in praying for the continued growth and success of Mashable, especially its San Francisco office, and for the health and happiness of Pete Cashmore, one of the youngest and brightest CEOs I’ve ever had the pleasure of serving.

If you’re the blogging type, I urge you to apply for my job. The SF bureau could use a few good journos, and I know the aforementioned Mr. Taylor to be a most excellent boss — best I’ve ever had, in fact.

Friends, thanks so much for your continued readership and support of my work. To find out where you can read my rantings next, stay tuned for more news tomorrow morning.

Main image was shot by Zat Photo.]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/07/20/quitting-mashable/feed/70quitting-mashableJolieOn Receiving Consolation: How Prayer & Meditation Worked For Mehttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/04/29/prayer/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/04/29/prayer/#commentsFri, 29 Apr 2011 18:57:22 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=2880]]>To suggest that God answers prayer is to open oneself up to accusations of schizophrenia.

After all, the finger of God never does come down and write on our walls. We don’t hear audible voices or see visions. God doesn’t send signs like a charlatan soothsayer at a séance.

But to deny that I’ve received an answer to my own prayers would be blatantly and obviously untrue. I am calmer, more productive, and much happier than I was nine days ago; that much is plain to anyone who’s seen me. But prayers aren’t answered like questions are. Prayer isn’t a call/response exercise.

Rather, especially in my recent experience, prayer is a calling forth of deep truths your soul already contains. In stillness and meditation, I have found that the consolations I sought were already in my life and in my heart; I just had to receive them.

In nine days of prayer, small realizations kept coming to mind. I would ask God for forgiveness and realize I needed to forgive someone, myself. I would ask God for daily sustenance and realize that I was actually sustaining myself pretty well all along. I would pray for God’s will to be done and realize that I didn’t have much control over circumstances, anyhow.

Most importantly, I would ask Jude to pray for my heart to be healed; slowly, I realized the breakup itself was the healing I needed. The past year of working on and suffering over a loveless relationship was what I needed to be healed from; the breakup was just taking my medicine.

Through these meditations, I’ve been able to let go of anger and choose deep contentment and happiness. After all, I’ve got my health, a fan-flipping-tastic job, a cozy apartment, loyal friends — given these circumstances, I’d be an idiot to complain.

That contentment, which grew every day as I meditated, is the answer I was looking for. And that answer did, in fact, come from God.

I’ve long believed that God exists most palpably in the best in people. When we are kind to strangers, God is there. When we speak against injustice, God is there. And even when we simply choose to live in gratefulness and joy, God exists in that choice.

And so ends the rather brief saga of my grief over love lost. I am choosing to live in what I consider to be a godly state of bliss, and there will be a partner in my future to share in it.

Thank you to everyone who has given me words of comfort and encouragement through this challenging time. We all go through heartaches; I hope my sharing mine has been able to help a few of you readers, too.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/04/29/prayer/feed/23prayerJolieAn Agnostic Prays the St. Jude Novenahttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/04/19/novena/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/04/19/novena/#commentsTue, 19 Apr 2011 20:42:47 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=2863]]>In times of deepest depression and desperation, my thoughts and heart invariably turn to God. I’m not sure God appreciates the foul-weather friendship, but the habit is one that was formed for me many years ago by my very devout parents, and it’s not one that’s likely to go away any time soon.

As I set up my new apartment and attempt to find comfort in myself, my heart has still been broken, and I would do anything to mend it. Historically, I try to avoid emotional pain like the proverbial plague. I used to drink to mask those emotions; these days, there’s not much standing between me and the specter of loneliness that’s always beside me the minute I close my front door.

In times of pain, what can one do? Cry. Wait. Watch old movies. Make and drink tea. Cry some more. Try to sleep. Work, meet with friends, go through the motions. But the loneliness doesn’t go anywhere; it’s always right there, waiting for the latest distraction to wear off or come to a close.

St. Jude is the patron saint of desperate cases and helper of the hopeless. Feeling that my particular case was certainly edging toward desperate (getting out of bed is becoming the exception rather than the rule), but not being particularly religiously devout (for a rather complicated set of reasons), I did a bit of online research on St. Jude and how one might enlist a saint’s help in times of spiritual need.

Interestingly, the opus surrounding Saint Jude is as complicated as my own religious history. Some Catholics condemn novenas to Saint Jude as heretical and cultish. Still, scores of prayers and many novenas to St. Jude exist. I noted with chagrin the several versions of “A Mother’s Prayer to St. Jude,” as I know I’ve given my mother plenty of cause to pray over the years.

Here’s the funny thing about prayer: Even if your prayers aren’t answered, even if you don’t understand why or to whom you’re praying, it often helps. It’s a release; you’re admitting you don’t have much control and that you wish you could change the situation but can’t. You’re asking — God, the universe, St. Jude, whomever — for help, or at least for closure and clarity. Prayer is, if nothing else, a psychological exercise in acceptance. You throw your words at the ceiling, and whatever happens, happens. Then it’s up to you to accept and internalize the outcome.

So today, I began praying a novena to St. Jude. Nine prayers each day for nine days.

St. Jude, glorious apostle, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the name of the person (who betrayed our Lord) has caused you to be forgotten by many, but the true Church invokes you universally as the Patron of things despaired of. Pray for me, who is so miserable; pray for me, that I may finally receive the consolations and the succour of Heaven in all my necessities, tribulations, and sufferings, particularly (my personal request went here), and that I may bless God with the Elect Throughout Eternity. Amen.

That gets followed by three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glorias. During the first prayers, I cried like a baby the entire time. Admitting that I’m miserable and that I desperately long to be healed, saying those words out loud was like busting up a dam.

I don’t know if God’s there; if s/he’s there, I don’t know if s/he can hear me. If s/he can hear me, I have absolutely no idea whether or not my prayer will be answered. But I do know I’ve done as much as I can on my own, and I’d rather talk to the ceiling like a crazy person than lie in bed in dumb despair for one more day.

The final part of the novena is that you have to promise to publish your prayer and/or thanks (if the prayer is answered), and you have to encourage devotion to St. Jude. So here’s my (admittedly ambivalent) encouragement: If you’re hopeless, yourself, why not? In the worst case, nothing happens; in any other case, you’ll likely learn something about yourself along the way and perhaps be blessed by your own positive thinking.

And who knows: St. Jude, God, and the universe might even conspire to answer your prayer.

]]>https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/04/19/novena/feed/20novenaJolieSobriety: One Year Down, Many More to Gohttps://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/04/18/one-year-sober/
https://jolieodell.wordpress.com/2011/04/18/one-year-sober/#commentsMon, 18 Apr 2011 22:31:29 +0000http://blog.jolieodell.com/?p=2837]]>Today, I’m celebrating my first anniversary. One year clean and sober. Go me.

I thought I’d be a lot happier today, but really, all I’ve been able to think lately is, “Why the [insert expletive of choice] did it take me this long?”

I spent the vast majority of my 20’s in a state somewhere between a haze and a stupor, and I have a lot to regret. In many ways, I don’t much feel like celebrating the one year of semi-normal behavior stacked up against the many lost years of stupidity and damage. But I’m making a point to note the day and reflect on all that’s happened in the past year.

In AA and NA, they tell you not to make any major changes or commitments in the first year. My biggest changes (new job, new city, moving in with my partner) began just as my days of debauchery were ending, so my sobriety seemed like just one more blank page in an unwritten book. I was excited to prove to the world that it would like the new and improved me. The responsible me. The competent, professional, kind me.

As I started dealing with my problems rather than trying to drown them and process my feelings rather than indulge in them, the year progressed really well. All kinds of good things were happening. I was making progress by leaps and bounds, and I was seeing positive, incremental changes all the time. And as the last weeks of my first year sober rolled around, I felt I had finally achieved the impossible: adulthood.

The biggest thing I’ve gained in my first year of sobriety is self-respect. That deep chasm in my heart of hearts that nothing could fill but which I tried to fill by using and drinking — that’s gone. Filled and closed once and for all, and by me alone. I no longer need the affirmation of others — don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but it’s icing on the cake, not the basis for my self-esteem.

The other big gain has been the ability to solve my own problems. The littlest things used to derail me. A bad day at the laundromat might lead to my downing a fifth or more of gin. (Eww, gross.) Any sort of interpersonal anxiety would lead to a days-long bender of epic proportions and nightmarish consequences. These days, I have a lot more calm and stability than that. I deal with problems large and small head-on. I don’t panic; I solve.

Still, life lessons like those seem so friggin’ basic. “Look, Ma! I have self-respect and problem-solving skills!” Aren’t those the kinds of things I should have learned in 6th grade or so?

Nevertheless, without those skills, I’d be adrift right now. The biggest life change of the year — a breakup I neither expected nor wanted — happened about a month ago. If it had happened six months ago, I’m pretty sure I’d be face-down in a ditch by now. But having my Medal of Self-Respect and my Commemorative Problem-Solving Pin, I went out, got myself an apartment, and did my best to carry on and not dwell on the negative.

I honestly am doing the very best I can, but I really don’t feel I’ve accomplished anything to be proud of. I’ve reformed. I stopped a bad behavior. I didn’t save anyone else’s life or make a significant contribution to society. I haven’t discovered anything previously unknown. I just did the right thing, the thing I should have been doing all along.

Alright, I’ll admit I’d probably be a lot more into celebrating if my ex (gosh, that’s a weird word to type) was celebrating with me. He was my biggest motivator and the most powerful catalyst in making the decision to once and for all get my act together. I did it, at the time, to save a faltering relationship. He loved me as a drunk (why, I’ll never know); I thought he would love me even more as a clear-eyed, confident woman.

This did not turn out to be the case.

In the words of a favorite book from my childhood, “For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?”

I’ve gained the whole world. I’ve got my life back. I’m in control. But I’ve lost so much along the way. In a sense, this relationship was just the latest casualty, its termination a delayed aftereffect.

I’m continuing with my life as strong and clear-headed as anyone could be. I can’t dwell on the past, and I wish I didn’t even have to grieve. (Surprise, surprise: The recovering addict is rather wont to avoid emotional pain.)

But no matter what — no matter what — I will not drink and I will not use. That part of my life is forever over. Knowing deep down to my foundation that regardless of any circumstance, I will be sober — that unshakable realization is my anniversary present to myself.